Fateful Reunion
by Levan
Summary: Ever since the Mansion incident, Chris' life was factored to only one thing: the downfall of Umbrella. But, a reunion with a special person would lead him to another thought that would always be etched in his mind forever. Short fan fic, Chris x Jill.
1. Home Sweet Home

A/N: So, I was randomly thinking of things like I usually do and this came up… lol. Anyways, this fic will be short, maybe about two to three chapters only. Reviews are highly appreciated, and not-so-harsh criticisms are welcome, I need those to improve!

Thanks.

_Disclaimer: I love Resident Evil. But Capcom owns Resident Evil. Too bad… *makes a sad face*_

_---------------_

_Albert Wesker…_

The same image of the man flashed inside his mind endlessly, making him grimace every single time he remembered him; his bloodshot stare… his reddish eyes mocking him intently, and his villainous laugh that added to his fury. He tried to ignore his thoughts by looking outside the open car window.

He gazed at the splendor of the black sky, filled with myriad of stars and hazy clouds that gave out a soothing sensation. The moon was at its peak; a full moon, late at night, its light beating against the windshield.

Chris kept both of his hands clenched onto the steering wheel, careful not to make a mistake as he drove swiftly through the road. It was damp and slippery from the recent rainfall, but was empty; only the wails of the wind kept him company, the noise of which enough to smother the sound of the engine.

A small whimper entered Chris' ears, and he was suddenly filled with concern as he came to a complete stop beside a tall pine tree. After taking a deep breath, he turned his head to the back, his left hand still held on to the steering wheel and his right arm resting on the top of the chair.

Her eyes were closed and her head was resting upon the closed glass of the window, lamenting. The moonlight revealed the luminescence of her tears. Chris traced the influx of these droplets, sliding down from her sapphire blue eyes to her pale cheeks, until the tiny droplets slowly dripped off of her chin, disappearing completely out of his sight.

He sighed heavily and adjusted his position on his seat as he asked her. "Claire… Why don't you tell me what's wrong?"

For a moment there was silence and tranquility, but it was broken by Claire's abrupt sob. Even though she was aware of Chris' stare, she continued to snivel, up until she could not stand the constant haunting of her memories anymore and finally buried her face inside her palms.

Tears began to flow wildly, some even escaping through the small cracks of her close hands. Her sobs grew louder, mourning over something Chris was too oblivious about.

She wanted to tell Chris more about _him_. But she couldn't. The more she would try to remember him, the more her heart ached. The more she desired to, the more her thoughts would continually grow into a commencing hysteria.

It felt like an eternity for Claire before Chris had started the engine once again, his eyes drifted away from her depressed face. It was certainly a relief, but was never enough to fully alleviate the stress inside of her. She was assertive that Chris would stop, turn his head again, gaze at her for a few moments, and then start the engine in a similar fashion.

The cycle would never end, and it bothered Claire to an extent that she might even protest when he would do it once more.

That was one thing she wouldn't dare to do, especially not after he had just rescued her from that dreadful Antarctic Facility… especially not after he risked his life just so he could save her… especially not after he went through ounces of torture and punishment from Wesker just because she was too careless enough to slide into the hands of that demonic man.

She admitted it already; she was a magnet for trouble, the black sheep of the family, and finally, a pain in the ass for everyone around her. But nobody thought of her that way, even his older brother himself. Claire was just being a protective little sister, and Chris knew that if he was in her place, he'd try to search for her too when she would get in trouble like him.

Soon, the noise of her weeping halted, and the nonstop mantra of the engine and the same wails of the wind from the outside were the only sounds left that would echo through Chris' ears.

It didn't last very long though. Once Chris had taken a path to the left of the junction, the utter roars from the speeding vehicles of the highway had begun. He joined the momentum of the cars, increasing his speed limit to an acceptable range. No matter how fast he drove though, the other automobiles raced by him rapidly, making him frown.

At the far end of Chris' eyesight was a city, surrounded with hundreds, or may even thousands of different illuminations. The more he got closer, the more his eyes began to sore, making him rub them as they adjusted to the contrasts of the light from the darkness that he had been looking at for nearly an hour.

The tall buildings started to form before him, and soon they have arrived to their destination; Chris' apartment. The street was unusually serene at this time of night.

"You okay back there?" Chris asked Claire, sincerity evident in his voice.

"I'm fine." She replied back with a rather monotonous tone, her features in tact and unmoving.

Both Redfields climbed out of the car, and headed right to the back to get their luggage. Gallant as he is, Chris immediately took the majority of the bags, leaving her little sister to only carry her backpack. She still did not speak though. She kept her lips pursed in a tight line like it was permanently locked, and still avoiding any eye contact with her older brother.

Chris heaved the bags with a strong grunt, and headed to the entrance of the apartment building. He slammed the double doors open blatantly, uttering a very loud thud. This late at night, there was no one inside the lobby, giving Chris a sense of shameless freedom.

Chris went straight for the elevator, his hands desperately clutching the handles of some of the bags, fearing that they would slip. Once he got inside, he carefully dropped the bags on the floor, and held the elevator door open, patiently waiting for Claire.

When she saw what Chris was doing, she hastened her footsteps and entered the elevator. Her face still contained a puzzled expression as she went.

It didn't take long before they have reached the front door of Chris' apartment. Chris slipped his hand around his left pocket, digging out his apartment key. He pulled it out, slightly forcing it out of his pocket since it was a bit too tight. He clumsily fiddled the keys a bit before inserting it into the lock, and turned the knob to open it.

Not much had changed in Chris' apartment. It still had the dull, fleshy wallpaper which he could remember so easily from the first time he entered this apartment. He was amazed that the wallpaper lasted up until now, but its age doesn't matter at all, he would want to redecorate soon, considering it looked a bit tattered and torn.

His apartment was quite simple, manifesting nearly the same furnishings as other apartments across the whole country, though his apartment still showed signs of neglect, and is not as immaculate as it seems.

Claire could feel the uncomfortable, stinging dust as she breathed, her nose screaming in protest from the pain. She covered her nose instinctively, and headed right for the bathroom. Claire had been in this apartment before, and she knew exactly where she needed to go.

The older Redfield went through the opposite path, toward his own bedroom. He left the luggage on the bed and shook his aching hands from its weight. When he was inside the living room again, Claire was already there, brushing a small hand towel across her face.

"You can sleep in the bed, Chris. I'm fine with the couch," the younger Redfield insisted, leaving the towel draped on her neck.

Chris shook his head in response. "You take the bed, I get the couch. That's final. You need the rest, Claire. I'm sure you can't sleep comfortably in that lumpy old couch," he said, gesturing at his old couch, the same couch he would always slump onto like a couch potato.

"But…"

Chris hushed her. "My apartment, my rules. So go ahead and take the bed. I sleep better on the couch anyway, since I get the TV." Chris smiled, trying to show a jovial expression to Claire so that she would join him. But she didn't.

"Alright. Thank you, Chris," she thanked passively. The perplexity on her face kept screaming into her brother's mind. Chris wanted to comfort her as much as possible, especially after her loss…

The younger Redfield carried her small backpack to Chris' bedroom silently, and now fully accustomed to the dusty air. His brother on the other hand slumped onto his own couch, resting his head on the slightly soft cushions. When he said it was lumpy he wasn't kidding; he could feel the hard lumps irritating his back.

He closed his eyes, trying to sleep, but he could feel the insomnia seeping inside of him, not from the uncomfortable couch, but from the dilemma that he was facing now. He turned on his television and surfed through the channels to get his mind relaxed and ready for rest. That only resulted to him watching for nearly an hour, still surprisingly active.

He turned off the television and nestled onto his couch again. He let his arms rest on the surface of his abdomen and shut his eyelids hoping that he would finally drift off to sleep, but to no avail, his tactics still did not help him.

He stood up once again and decided to check up on her sister to see if she was fast asleep. He pushed the door to his bedroom furtively, and to his surprise she was awake, her eyes staring upon the dull ceiling and her arms holding on to the fluffy pillow.

"Can't sleep?" Chris asked slowly, trying not to startle her.

"I guess…" She closed her eyelids and shifted her position on the bed, wishing that she would finally break free from the insomnia.

Chris crept up on her and sat just beside her.

"I'm your brother, Claire. If there is anything wrong, tell me. Maybe I could help you," he said, staring at the back of her head. It was rare to see Claire to not have her hair tied up into a ponytail, and she looked magnificent without it. It made him ponder why she loved to tie her hair that way.

She kept quiet and did not turn to face him.

"If this is about Steve…"

"It isn't!" she shouted abruptly, and buried her face inside the plump pillow. Chris could hear her silent mourning, failing to completely hide her feelings.

Chris ran his fingers through her hair, trying to communicate with her in a soundless way. It worked; she turned her head around this time.

"I'm sorry, Chris. I didn't mean to shout at you like that. It's just…" She trailed off, failing to utter the words she wanted to say.

"Just relax, Claire. I know his death was devastating to you, but… You can't just wait around and mourn for him forever, right? We need you. _I_ need you. You have to be aware at the fact that this could be happening to someone already right now, suffering the same fate as him. You have to be brave, Claire. I know Steve would agree with me."

She flashed a smile at his brother, giving him an enlightening sensation on his heart that she was finally happy.

"You do have a point," Claire said, chuckling slightly. She thought if Steve would really agree with him. It was a bit blurry on her perspective, but knowing Steve, he might.

Chris brushed her forelocks gently, and started to slide his hand through her hair lightly.

"_Sleep now, little Claire, you shall be fine…_

_Sleep now, little Claire, there is still time…_

_Sleep now, little Claire, your dreams await you…_

_Sleep now, little Claire, I'll always be with you."_

Chris hummed the lullaby smoothly, mimicking his father's voice when he would always sing to her when she was just a little girl. The rhythm was nearly perfect, and Claire actually felt like his father was singing to her. He examined the complexion of her face, a brilliant glow surfaced on it from the moonlight that shone down on her youthful features.

She still looked like a child to him, and officially, he was her guardian, the only one left who could take care of her. It was tragic that their parents have died while Claire was still young, leaving Chris himself to take care of her. It was fortunate that Claire began to mature fast, until she could finally take care of herself and Chris was able to take the job he desired for so long. Aside from a sister, she was a daughter. Aside from a brother, he was a father. It was an unusual relationship.

Once she had finally fallen asleep, Chris left the bedroom and lied on the couch again. It was his turn to doze off now, if he would be able to, that is.

Just as he closed his eyes, the phone rang. Chris grunted immediately, cursing under his breath on to whoever would be calling this late at night. He answered the phone without delay, fearing the loud ring would wake up Claire.

"Hello?"

"Did I disturb you there?" It was a feminine voice, its tone awkwardly familiar for the former S.T.A.R.S. member.

"Who is this?"

"You left me there, Chris. I've been searching for you high and low, and then I get a message saying you were already in the country. _That_ was fun."

As her sarcastic words sunk into Chris' head, he searched through his memories, trying to remember this certain voice that he knew he could easily distinguish. And then it struck him.

"Jill?"

The doorbell rang.

"In the flesh," the voice said teasingly through the phone.


	2. Lovely

A/N: So… This will be the last chapter. Though, I may continue it but that depends, really, on the reviews and such and such. For now, I'll be leaving this to relax in the fan fiction archive, until I receive a definite calling to continue this story.

Thank you, Black Dragon41 for reviewing. I wanted to include Claire's grief over Steve, what she really felt after she was rescued by Chris. Sorry that I'll be stopping this story so soon… That is, of course, possibly just temporary.

_---------------_

_Thump._

Chris gulped down, and felt his throat thickening. Emotions started to spring out all over him; excitement, happiness, gratification… Then there was fear, and anxiety. There was another, more dormant one, but somehow, he could not decipher that strange feeling.

_Thump._

Inhale, exhale, he couldn't stop. Every step he took plunged into him like a double edged knife, one of which was smooth while the other was jagged and rough. Each pound on the floor gave him a twist of dread and contentment, an impossible type of sentiment.

_Thump. Knock Knock._

Chris could not identify that beating anymore. Was it the door, or did it came somewhere else? If it wasn't the door, he pressed his hand against his chest to check. He didn't doubt.

_Thump. "Chris?"_

Chris, Chris, Chris… It was an everlasting echo that was once hidden inside the deep depths of his memories, and right now, it has resurrected.

"I-I'm coming!" He choked out. His voice was awkwardly shaking and stuttering, a very bizarre occurrence.

_Thump._

He removed the lock and turned the knob open, his hands trembling violently as he did. A sense of relief washed over him once the door creaked open.

_Of course it's her. But…_

"Hey there, Redfield," Jill greeted at the sight of the mesmerized man. He hadn't noticed that his jaw was already dropped in shock, the creases in his forehead forming along with his heightened brows.

"Can I come in?"

Chris mustered up his courage and nodded his head slowly, and once Jill had entered, he closed the door gently.

"Sorry if I disturbed you, I know it's the middle of the night, but… I just can't stop myself from visiting you. Not after you were gone for months."

She folded her arms and sat down on the couch, her face expressionless.

"Jill, I'm… sorry. I'm sorry I left you there. I had to." Chris kept taking wistful glances at the ceiling, the floor, and some of the picture frames that were hung at the side of the room, giving himself an excuse to not gaze at her. His guilt was overwhelming him.

"Oh, hush hush, Mr. Redfield. I do understand that you're a bit obsessed with your work. I mean, come on, you just had to punch Elran on the face, did you? Were you that mad?"

Chris refused to answer, and kept his mouth zipped shut and his dark blue eyes focused off elsewhere but Jill.

"The silent type, eh? I guess this should get you talking." Jill stood up and pulled out something from her waist. It shimmered brightly. Chris jumped after realizing what it was, and took a few steps away from her.

"What? I'm not going to stick this into your guts if that's what you're asking," she joked with a warm grin. Chris steadied himself, and lowered his position. She pulled out the combat knife completely out of her pocket. It was familiar to him, the same craft and sharpness was surely recognizable.

"That's my knife! Where'd you get that?" Chris rushed towards her and tried to grab the knife, but it ended up in another way.

The moment their hands touched, it felt like that the world had suddenly vanished and they were there, all alone across an endless black space. Both were paused, their eyes locked on with each other. Neither of them jerked their hands away.

Jill still had the knife inside her clenched palm. The warm touch of Chris' hand had frozen her in place, and a pleasurable sensation showered over her. After shifting back to reality, Jill flushed, her face glowing with a clear shade of red, and opened her hand as Chris took the knife.

The silence kept on till a drop of sweat trickled down one of Chris' temples. Jill gracefully wiped it off, her hands sliding across his forehead, slightly touching the brunette's hair. Chris instantly raised his hand and shoved away her arm as gentle as possible. He lowered his head afterwards with a frown painted on his gruff face.

"I found it in your hideout, silly Chris. It's odd of you to forget that trusty knife of yours," she said, still with a heartwarming smile.

"Thanks, Jill." He placed the combat knife on the table, but his sight did not divert to Jill once he was done.

"I need to tell you something, Jill. It's about Wesker. He's…. alive."

Jill's eyes widened at the mention of his name.

"Wesker? He's _alive_?" She asked incredulously.

Chris nodded with a puzzled frown, his head still pointing at the wooden floor.

"But how-"

Chris interrupted her. "I don't know. But I know there's something different about him. I think he isn't human anymore. His eyes… They didn't look normal. It was bloody red… Definitely not normal, even if it was just the first time I saw them." He grimaced as Wesker's image began to return back into his head.

"Is he still working for Umbrella?"

"Maybe, but If he still was, he wouldn't be going around and attacking Umbrella's facilities, wouldn't he?"

"I guess so." She nodded in agreement and folded her arms once again.

"Wesker isn't the same captain we once knew. He's strong. Immensely strong, in fact. He's iincredibly fast too. He isn't human anymore, I'm sure of it."

Jill raised her head thoughtfully, and stared back at Chris.

"Chris, you can't just keep pushing yourself like this. You have your limitations, and you shouldn't overdo your work."

A sudden resentment began to flow into his veins. "You can't just barge into my life like that, Jill. I know what I'm doing and I'm going to see through it. If you don't want to, then just leave. I don't care. I have to do this, and you have to understand. I'm doing everything for you, for Barry and his family, Claire, everyone I know, and hell, everyone who's under a threat against that goddamn corporation!"

A concerned look began to emerge from Jill's face. She pressed forward, willing to talk him through it.

"You just can't take all this responsibility, Chris. There are others-"

Chris began to rant, his voice louder and more frightening.

"Others? I haven't seen any of those "_others_" that you're talking about. When the Raccoon City incident happened, did anyone try and help the citizens? NO! And guess how that piece of shit you call the government decided to resolve their problem… Blow it up like hell! If nobody is going to take action, then I'll have to do it on my own."

Jill bit her lip, and let her eyes wander elsewhere than his furious features. But her gaze returned upon him, and an aura of strength and wisdom began to linger around her, its coercion visible in comparison with Chris' unstable sentimentality.

"But you're not alone Chris! I'm fighting for what's right, just like you. We're partners, Chris, and I know you're aware of that!"

Chris froze.

_Partners…_

Jill continued. "You can't do everything alone. You'll need help, and I'm right here. You can't live in seclusion forever."

Her words began to sink in to him. They were hurtful, yet it governs truth.

"Partners, Chris. Partners till the very end."

She stepped forward and embraced him cordially, her arms wrapped around his neck, and her chin rested on one of his shoulders. The white cloth of his shirt was very clean and its aroma was hypnotizing and pleasurable. Chris hesitated to raise his hands to return the favor, but he gave in finally. He closed his eyes as he carefully placed his hands on the surface of Jill's thick, blue tank top. She smelled of lavender, its captivating scent deluding him.

It was certainly lovely.

"I missed you, Jill."

"I missed you too."

Jill released her grip, and simultaneously, Chris removed his hand around her waist.

"I have to get going now, Chris. I'll be seeing you in a while. I've gathered up a lot of research recently, and I'm sure you'd be intrigued to find out." She flashed a smile and went to open the door.

"And Chris, if we're going against a very strong brute, I know you can't take him on with that skinny body of yours," she remarked as she scanned up and down on his body.

"You should take some time off and go to the gym. It doesn't hurt being at least a little stronger, don't you think? And get some more protein on your diet. It'll help. Well then, see you later, partner."

She winked playfully before she closed the door with a low sounding scrape. Chris then slumped down on his couch again and closed his eyes.

He chuckled softly.

_I'll be waiting, partner._

His vision faded slowly, until the darkness had engulfed him completely. His face still formed a perfect smile through the bitter blackness of it all.

-End

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Extra A/N, 08/17/09:

Instead of continuing the story, I'm planning to make another, more of a "sequel" for this one. Except that one is set a few years after this, hence why I decided to make another. Thanks to Black Dragon41, Natasha Sunderland, Tiger Snaps, ditto9 and LovelySpaceyGirl for reviewing! :)


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